Perhaps the World Ends Here
Joy Harjo, the first Native American U.S. Poet Laureate, was recently appointed to a second term. Beginning September 1, she will collaborate with the Library of Congress's Geography and Map Division to create a StoryMap (a web mapping application geared towards storytelling) called "Living Nations, Living Words: A Map of First People's Poetry."
In this poem, Harjo creates a sense of place around a simple object: A kitchen table. The poem brings up important questions during this era of isolation: How do we gather? How will we pass important information from person to person? teacher to student? Parent to child? A poet cannot answer all these questions, but she can help us sit with their gravity and complexity.
Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
-posted with the poet’s permission
